


Like I Do

by Flyting



Series: And Other Poisoned Devils [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Hux is Not Nice, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Rape Aftermath, Recovery, Stockholm Syndrome, hurting ben solo for fun and profit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 01:11:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10629057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flyting/pseuds/Flyting
Summary: For fifteen years, Ben Solo was a captive of the First Order. But even after his rescue from Starkiller Base, where he was being kept as the General's pet, the Resistance struggles to break Hux's hold over Ben.Followup to 'And Other Poisoned Devils'.





	

**Author's Note:**

> See end notes for warnings. This fic focuses more on the aftermath of trauma, but contains a lot of references, recollections, and implications to the cause of the trauma.

Normally, Ben wakes when Hux does and rolls over into the still-warm space in the bed to doze for another few minutes, the top of his head peeking over their mounds of blankets, while Hux gets ready for his shift. It’s pleasant. He enjoys listening to the little noises of Hux moving around the room while he naps. The faint hiss of the sonic shower, the rustle of clothing, the soft clink of a spoon in Hux’s morning cup of tea. They’re comforting sounds. Safe sounds.

He’s safe when Hux is around.

Some mornings he’s pulled out of sleep earlier, by a pair of hands firm on his hips or tangling in his hair. Ben always goes easily, barely opening his eyes. He doesn’t mind being maneuvered, guided down the bed or rolled over onto his belly. He likes these mornings less than the others, but only a little _._ Hux is always sweet with him early in the morning, before he’s showered and combed his hair back. Sleepy and gentle, without the heavy lines of that coat over his shoulders.

On mornings where Hux doesn’t have to report for duty he can spend hours gently taking Ben apart with his fingers and his soft mouth, until Ben is a trembling, begging wreck.

It’s nice, so nice, to lie together afterwards with their legs tangled together and Hux’s fingers in Ben’s hair. There is a spot at the top of Ben’s spine, just where his hairline ends, that makes him melt into the blankets, boneless, when Hux scratches gentle circles there.

_“Good boy. Who loves you?” Hux murmurs._

_“Mm, you do,” Ben’s answer is automatic, his smile hidden against a pillow. “Love you too.”_

If he could choose, Ben would live in that moment forever- warm and content and loved.

But he can’t. Nothing’s forever.

The room he’s in now gets cold early in the mornings. Not freezing cold, like a punishment, just chilly, like maybe the Resistance forgot to turn on the heat. Sometimes he wakes up shivering and tucks his icicle feet up under the blankets close to his body to warm them. Their room on the base was always nice and warm- heated by geothermal vents from deep underground. Hux was proud of the efficiency of the design. He always kept Ben comfortable.

Ben isn’t actually sure if it’s morning or not when it gets cold, but he assumes that’s right. It doesn’t really matter when he wakes up anymore, so he tries not to. Like maybe if he tries hard enough he can just stop living by sheer force of will.

He can’t- he knows he can’t- but he is stubborn, and tries anyway.

Ben sleeps until his head hurts and his limbs feel heavy and gross. Until sleep is as much a punishment he is inflicting on himself as it is a relief. Sleeps until he isn’t sure if it’s morning or night or even how many days he’s been a prisoner here.

The rattle and slide as the door sticks forces him to wake. He’s groggy, his mouth full of cotton. There’s no chrono in his cell, so there’s no telling what time it is when they come bother him. You’re probably not supposed to care what time it is, in the Republic.

“Hey Ben, are you awake?”

Ben groans at the traitor stormtrooper’s voice. _Finn_ , a little voice in the back of his mind supplies, until he corrects it stubbornly, _the traitor stormtrooper._

He hunches his shoulders under the thick blanket that’s pulled up to his ears. Rolling over to face the wall and pretending to be asleep will make the others leave Ben alone, but not him. The man who guards the door will mutter soft questions, and retreat when he gets no answers, leaving Ben’s meal on the nightstand. Even the woman he thinks is their doctor will give up when she cannot coax him to turn over or unbend his stubborn limbs enough to let her prod at him. But the traitor will sit there and chatter and chatter until Ben finally gives in and acknowledges him, just to shut him up.

“Hey Ben, how are you doing? I finally talked to Mien this morning, and she’s going to make some of that bocco and blue-milk cheese soup I told you about and send it down later. You gotta try it. I’ve never had anything so good in my life. Better than food synthesizers, any day. That stuff is so filling. One bowl and I thought I was going to have to lie down,” he babbles as Ben sits up and sullenly rubs the sleep out of his eyes with the heel of his hand.

It’s surprising the traitor isn’t getting fat, as much as he talks about food.

Ben wonders, with a jolt of worry, if they know that he hasn’t been eating everything they give him.

“Rey had three bowls and man, I still don’t know where she put it all. When you meet her you’ll see what I mean.”

Ben scowls. He does not want to meet the traitor’s friends. He’s said so.

 “A couple of us are going to play something called tablepong in the hangar bay later. You’re welcome to come if you want,” he makes the offer quickly and continues before Ben can open his mouth to reject it. “Poe says it’s a lot of fun. Have you ever played before?”

Ben takes his time arranging his long limbs; sitting up, pulling his legs up and crossing them. He hates how much of himself sticks out. He also hates the way Finn is always asking him things. _Leave me alone, leave me alone, leave me alone-_

“No. I don’t- maybe…” he mutters. The word is familiar. He might have played with his dad when he was a kid. But that was a long time ago. 

“You should seriously come play. We need somebody tall. Rey’s never played before either and I feel like Poe is going to kick both of our butts.”

“I’ll think about it.” By which he means _no,_ but it’s the only thing that’s going to get the traitor to stop talking about stupid _puerile children’s games_.

Every time the traitor visits, he reminds Ben that he’s free to leave the room whenever he wants. All Ben has to do is ask.

He never does. There’s nothing the Republic has that Ben wants- nothing. All he wants is to go home to Hux. Wanting anything else feels like a betrayal.

Even if he is sick of counting the bumps and rivets in the corrugated metal walls as he waits for sleep to claim him again.

Finn settles into his usual chair, the one he put back against the far wall on his first visit, which has remained there ever since because Ben doesn’t care enough to move it.

“Anyway, how are you doing?”

Ben has nightmares where Hux, sneering, calls him ‘republic filth’ and asks what made Ben think Hux would ever want him back after they’d had him. In the dreams he’s desperate, begging to come home. He always wakes up crying.

“Great. Thanks.”

“Breslin says you sleep a lot.”

Ben shrugs. It doesn’t occur to him to feel violated at being watched. He’s used to it. The Resistance will have to try harder than that to break him.

“Is that what you used to do before? In the Order, I mean- did you sleep when Hux wasn’t around, or- well obviously you slept, but y’know- what did you do all day?”

The traitor always stammers and stumbles over his words when he talks about Hux. Maybe he feels guilty for his betrayal. Hux was the head of the Stormtrooper program, after all. Does Finn think about how much it must have hurt him, to have one of his own run off and join the disgusting Resistance?

This is a particularly clumsy bit of interrogation- as if Ben’s going to just blurt out all the work he did for the Order- but he doesn’t want them to realize he’s hiding anything. He can play this game better than Finn can. Ben knows how to feign obedience better than anyone.

Not all of his masters were as nice as Hux.

“Read,” he shrugs again. It isn’t a lie. “I read a lot.”

He spares a mournful thought for all his holonovels, which must be so much space dust now if what Finn says about the base getting blown up is true. They were the closest things he had to possessions- Hux didn’t read them, nobody else got to touch them but Ben. Hux even called them his. _Now be a good boy, clean yourself up and go read your books._

And he knows better than to get attached to things, but… he is going to miss his holonovels. None of his other masters- the ones he isn’t supposed to think about- had ever let him _own_ anything.

When you belonged to someone else, you didn’t get to have things that belonged to you.  
  
“Yeah? That’s cool! I never got to read much before. You know, except for what they required. But I keep meaning to start now that I’ve got more time. What kind of books do you like?” Finn always looks at him, animated with interest, when he talks to him.

Ben’s shoulders creep up towards his ears under the attention. “Different things. I… some history, and some fiction. Um. I’ve read a lot about how things are built. Ships and things.”

His throat feels dry. This is the most he’s said to anyone the entire time he’s been here.

“Which ones are your favorite?”

“Why?” Ben’s eyes narrow. No one has ever asked him this before. Hux had always just picked the kinds of books that he liked because he knew Ben would like them too.

“Oh, well- you know, just to give me somewhere to start- I don’t know anybody else who’s read a lot of books. I think Poe just has, like, a lot of technical manuals and Rey doesn’t read much… which is fine, it’s good, but there’s just so _much_ and I’d love some suggestions, you know?”

It sounds like a trick. It must be a trick, but Ben can’t see where the deception fits together. The traitor is an awful liar, and this doesn’t sound like one of his lies.

“I guess… I like the fiction. The ones that are just about people. Those… those are good.” He catches the neckline of his shirt in his mouth and bites at it. An anxious gesture. Hux hated it- tried to break Ben of it, but Hux isn’t here- This will turn out to be a trick, somehow, he knows it. All the Resistance does is _lie._ “About families. Or… there are some about love stories, but I don’t like those as much. Um. There’s a whole series about these brothers who were pilots back during the old Empire that’s good. I had- I’ve read a few of them.”

“Yeah? That pilot one sounds pretty neat, what’s it called?” He fishes around in a pocket of the tan jacket he always wears and pulls out a little data device.

“Um. Blood Debt, I think?”

If he cranes his neck, Ben is tall enough to see the screen of the device from his spot across the room. Finn taps a few letters into a search box and then scrolls through what comes up.

“I think this is it. ‘Blood Debt: Saga of the Empire’? There’s about ten of them?”

Ben shrugs again. Hux had only given him the first three. He said the rest weren’t any good.

“These do look pretty cool. I’m gonna order them.” He taps the screen again. “If- wait, wait, hang on. Poe showed me how to use this thing but I already forgot. Hang on, hang on…. There’s a way to pay for it on here somewhere. Come on… Sorry. I’m used to just going through the requisitions officer for everything, you know?” Ben glances away when he looks up, so as not to be caught watching.

Finn fills the silence in halting sentences while he frowns down at the little screen. “Don’t get me wrong though, I love it. It’s really, really cool getting your own credits and getting to pick whatever you want to buy with them. You probably know all about that because you grew up here… Alright! There we go!”

Ben jumps a little at the sudden exclamation.

“If I get you a datapad do you want to read them with me? It’d give us something to talk about besides-”

“No,” Ben answers quickly, before he can allow himself to be tempted. Something like fear is crystallizing in the pit of his stomach. A warning. It’s the fear of leaning over a ledge unknowingly and suddenly realizing how close he came to falling.

Stupid, stupid, _stupid_ -

Ben turns his back on Finn, rolling onto his side on the bed.

“Why not? Ben, come on, I know you’re bored in here-“

“I don’t want anything from you.” Ben knew where little favors lead.

When Ben was around twenty he’d belonged to an Admiral named Crassus. Crassus was the second or third, after Elba- Ben isn’t really sure anymore. Hux told him not to think about it, and usually Ben was only too happy to oblige. But Hux wasn’t here anymore.

Crassus wasn’t any better or worse than any of the other First Order officers who had owned him. Just another slightly doughy, older man in a uniform, who liked to make Ben squirm while he fucked him.  
  
Ben mainly remembers him because he had given Ben a security card so that he could go to the hydroponic garden or the gym to occupy himself when Crassus didn’t want him.

Ben had liked the garden. Liked all the flowers and plants and little trees growing side by side in neat rows of planters, warmed by artificial sunlight overhead. It had been so long since he’d seen anything green. He’d almost cried, the first time, burying his nose in the soft leaves of a little bush whose placard said it was from Endor. He could feel it sort of humming, distantly, though the Force, despite the dampening collar he had to wear. Like it was comforting him.

Ben spent his time in the garden whenever he was allowed.

The science officers who worked there were always kind to him. When they weren’t busy they told him about the different plants. Which ones cleaned the air, or provided medicine, or grew fruit for the senior officers on the ship to enjoy.

An assistant barely older than Ben was, with blonde hair and soft blue eyes, used to let him sneak bites of the fruit they grew there. He’d sit with Ben on his lunch breaks and talk to him- not about anything in particular, just chatting. He asked Ben about his home world. Told him about growing up in the First Order.

It felt normal, to have a friend. He’d missed feeling normal so much.

After Ben mentioned that he hated how dull and gray the room where he slept was, the other boy had given him a cutting of one of the flowering plants to keep in a little pot beside his bed. It was green with brilliant orange flowers. He’d stared at it every night until he fell asleep.

The first time the other boy kissed Ben, it had been… shocking. Then disappointing.

When he did more, Ben realized how stupid he’d been.  
  
The traitor is still talking somewhere, distantly. Ben closes his eyes and tunes him out. Instead he hears a clipped voice, made haughty by irritation. _This is what you’re for, isn’t it? Don’t tell me I did all that for nothing-_

“Ben come on, what’s wrong?” Finn’s voice is gentle and persistent, like he’s talking to a _child_ , and it just makes Ben want to put his fist through the wall.

“Just fuck off- go away.”

“Ben-“  
  
“Quit talking to me like I’m a little kid!” Ben’s voice cracks, emotions trying to choke him.  
  
He’s not a child. He isn’t stupid and he isn’t some broken little boy that they can fix and make normal again. He wasn’t- that was why he needed Hux, because Hux understood that Ben would never be normal again- that he needed-

_Good boy, my good boy-_

_That’s it, good boy, now go clean yourself up-_

And yes, he’s broken, but he’s far from a child.

He hears Finn blow out a breath. “Okay. I’m sorry. Will you please turn around and talk to me? Look, I don’t know why you’re mad. I’m not gonna know unless you tell me.”

The first time the other boy had kissed him, Ben had been surprised, then disappointed. Sooner or later they always expected the same thing from him.

Finn sighs. “Alright, fine. You don’t have to read those books if you don’t want to. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Ben. I know you don’t believe me, and that’s okay, but I’m not here to make you do anything.”

It’s such a lie Ben can hardly breathe. “Why are you here, then?” he sneers, without turning around.

“I don’t know. Your mother wants to see you happy again, and I owe her a lot. And because… you know, Rey and Jess and Poe are great people, but they don’t know what it’s like there. In the Order. I don’t know, maybe I just like having somebody to talk to who gets it. I thought you might feel the same way.”

_It had felt so nice to have a friend._

Heat prickles behind Ben’s eyes, but he ignores it- won’t let them see him cry-  
  
“But if you want me to leave you alone, I will. Okay?”

“ _Okay, okay. If you don’t- shit- if you don’t want me to touch you I won’t, okay?” Before he was the traitor, that’s what the Stormtrooper who came and found Ben in Recreation had said._

_It was only fair. There had to be order. If the Republic lashed out, if the Republic hurt their people, then the Republic had to pay the price and Ben was Republic down to his filthy bones, but it had hurt so much and he didn’t want to-_

_He’d lost count of how many of them had had him, how many more there were supposed to be. 6? Or was it 7? He couldn’t move. Couldn’t do anything but lie on his side in pain on the cold durasteel floor. His body hurt so much. He was bleeding, had been bleeding for a while, could feel it drying, tacky between his thighs._

_When someone said, “Hey, are… are you alright?” and gentle hands tried to uncurl his stiff limbs Ben had struggled, weakly- there was no strength left in him, and that was probably a good thing because Hux would already be unhappy with him for resisting at all- whimpering don’t, don’t, don’t._

“ _Okay, okay. If you don’t- shit- if you don’t want me to touch you I won’t, okay?”_

_And the hands on his arms vanished. Something was draped over him- a blanket, and that voice was still there but the hands stayed gone._

Ben waits until he hears the chair creak and then the sound of the door sliding shut before he turns his face into the pillow and screams until his throat is raw and the burning threat of tears has been purged away.

 

* * *

 

 

“Head’s up, buddy!”

But Finn is miles away and he raises his paddle too late and the little holographic ball Poe had sent flying his way shoots over his shoulder. Out of bounds, it explodes with a loud buzz.

“That’s three-nothing, guys.”

“Sorry,” Finn says.

Rey groans in disappointment. “One more! One more round! We’ve got you this time.” He wasn’t remotely surprised to learn that Rey was the competitive type, but the intensity of it could be a little scary coming from somebody her size.

“Alright, alright,” Poe laughs. “Show me what you’ve got. But let’s make it interesting. Loser buys a round this time.”

“You’re. _On_.” Rey pins Poe with a fierce grin, pointing her finger across the round tablepong table. “Finn, we’ve got this, right?”

“Yeah, we got this. We got this!” He twirls the paddle in his hands and takes his place to her left, trying to force his head back on the game.

“What’s wrong?” Rey mutters, while Poe resets the table. “You’ve been distracted all day.”

“It’s just… stuff. I guess I keep thinking about Ben.”  
  
“General Organa’s son?” he can feel her interest perk. “From Starkiller?”

Rey had helped half drag, half force Ben onto a shuttle the day they escaped Starkiller Base, but she hadn’t been there for any of the aftermath.

“I guess I really thought I could help him.” Finn sighs. “I don’t know. Stupid, huh?”

“It’s not stupid. Just because you don’t succeed doesn’t mean it was a mistake to try.”

“Yeah, well I think I made things worse.”

Rey bites her wind-chapped lips and Finn realizes for the first time that she’s shifted her gaze to just over his shoulder.  
  
“Maybe not,” she says.

Finn turns to follow where she’s looking, and where Poe has just directed his attention.

Ben is hovering in the wide hangar doorway, tall and pale in worn grey pajamas. He has one hand clasped around his wrist and his shoulders are hunched, nervous, as he glances around the cavernous hangar bay.

It’s the first time in weeks Finn has seen him out of bed, and he’d forgotten what a big guy Ben was when he isn’t curled around himself trying to seem small.

“Hey, Ben,” Finn calls, forcing himself to sound casual, to not to run up and scare the crap out of the guy.

“Hey,” Ben mutters. He hangs back like a stray, unwilling to come too close. “Is it still okay if I…”

He trails off, unsure, and Finn smiles.

“Come on, we’re just about to start a new game.”

**Author's Note:**

> Fic contains: references to Ben being raped by stormtroopers, resulting in blood and physical injury  
> References to Ben being coerced into sex by a person he thought of as a friend  
> References to Ben being sexually abused by Hux- Ben considers the sex consensual because he does not resist, but he is in a situation in which he has no power to refuse  
> Emotional abuse/controlling behavior - Hux controls what Ben reads and does, treating him like a pet against his wishes.


End file.
